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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27350419">P.O. Box 34</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vagusnerve/pseuds/vagusnerve'>vagusnerve</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Runaways (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, because it's college application season, i wrote this instead instead of writing my college essays</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:42:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27350419</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vagusnerve/pseuds/vagusnerve</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gert receives a letter from Smith College</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chase Stein/Gertrude Yorkes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>P.O. Box 34</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gert had completely forgotten about her application to Smith. At least, that’s what she planned on telling everyone else. In reality, she had been counting down the days until December 15th, when her response was supposed to arrive.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
(“They said December 15th at the earliest, babe,” Chase had reminded her when he had found her calendar. Gert ignored him, if only because she didn’t think she could wait any longer.)<br/>
</p><p><br/>
And if she had volunteered a little too eagerly to check the P.O. Box the Runaways shared that morning, almost no one had reacted, with Chase giving her an encouraging smile as she headed out for the city.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
Gert pulled her coat tighter around her as she walked. L.A. may be known for sun all year round, but winter still made itself known in bursts of icy wind. She might as well adjust to the cold now, because when she went to Smith, winter in Massachusetts would be infinitely worse.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
If, she mentally chastised herself. If you go to Smith. You don’t even know if you got in.
</p><p><br/>
At least she would know soon enough. She took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm herself, before pushing open the door to the Post Office. The blast of warm air that greeted her was a welcome change, the Christmas bomb that seems to have hit the building, less so. Bows of green and red adorned the walls, and the entire card section was filled with glittering depictions of reindeers, Santa, and presents. Gert had no specific problem with Christmas as a holiday, she really didn’t. She did, however, have an issue with the Christian-centric view that the country adopted. Even supposed atheists went all out, and the one time in class she brought up her Jewish faith, Eiffel had responded with “But you still celebrate Christmas, right?”<br/>
</p><p><br/>
Gert shook her head to clear it. The point of today was not the blatant appropriation of Pagan holidays in service of spreading Christianity, nor the capitalist hell that Christmas had become. Today was about Gert, and whether or not she needed to start giving serious thought to her fall-back schools.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
She made a beeline for the P.O. boxes on the far side of the room, opening number 34. There was only one item inside. Gert pulled it out with shaking hands. The return address stared up at her.<br/>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Smith College Office of Admissions<br/>
7 College Lane<br/>
Northampton, MA 01063</p>
</div><br/><p><br/>
Months spent studying for and getting her G.E.D., checking up on the former teachers she asked for letters of recommendation, and writing and rewriting her essays had all led to the envelope she now held in her hands. There was nothing more to do, except open the envelope. </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p>	Chase was waiting in the foyer when she entered the hostel, pacing back and forth. Gert struggled to repress a smile upon seeing him. She didn’t know how she ever thought of him as a callous jock when how much he cared perpetually shone through.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
He turned when he heard the door close behind her, closing the gap between them in two quick strides and sweeping her up in his arms.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“Smith is stupid,” he announced, “if they can’t see how amazing you are, and how much you deserve to go there, because--”<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“Woah, woah, woah,” Gert cut in, extracting herself from his arms. “Who said I didn’t get in?”<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“Well you just looked really pale when you walked in, so I kind of assumed the worst. But if you didn’t not get in, does that mean...?” he trailed off expectantly.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
Gert flushed. “I haven’t opened it. I couldn’t manage to do it.” She pulled the envelope from her jacket pocket.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
Chase’s face softened. “Do you want to get everyone together? Or maybe just Molly.”<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“I want Molly there. And you. You’re the two people I care about most in this world.”<br/>
</p><p><br/>
He grinned, before giving her a peck on the lips. “I’ll get Molly!” he called behind him as he ran off.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
That’s how Gert found herself sitting on her bed, sandwiched in between Chase and Molly, with Old Lace curled up at her feet, once again staring at the envelope.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“I can open it if you want,” Chase offered.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“Right, because obviously I need a man to do simple tasks for me,” she shot back.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
He raised his eyebrows at her.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“Sorry. Automatic reaction. It’s just... what if I don’t get in? What do I do then?”<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“We’ll figure it out,” replied Molly. “But you’re never gonna know unless you open that envelope.”<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“Right. The envelope. I can do this.” Gert pushed her nail under the edge of the flap and pushed, ripping it open. She readjusted her glasses, and cleared her throat.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“Dear Ms. Gertrude Yorkes,” she read aloud. “Thank you so much for submitting your application to Smith College. We review thousands of submissions every year, but yours stood out as particularly exceptional, which is why we would like to offer you admission into Smith College’s Class of 2024!” Gert looked up, eyes wide.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“You got in!” Chase yelled, as Molly tackled her in a hug.<br/>
</p><p><br/>
“I got in,” Gert confirmed, smiling so widely her cheeks hurt. In that moment, it felt like everything had fallen into place. Everything was perfect.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>some of my dislike for xmas may have accidentally slipped in there, whoops</p></blockquote></div></div>
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